


Undercut

by Ellessey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Body Worship, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Model Oikawa Tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8782939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellessey/pseuds/Ellessey
Summary: 'There is so much Hajime wants to say about Oikawa’s hair, but Oikawa has his scary face on and, while Hajime is certainly not intimidated, he will be crafty about this at least.“Alright, stop,” Hajime says, in English.“What, Iwa?” Oikawa asks, voice heavy with exasperation.“Collaborate and listen.”'--Oikawa gets a new haircut, and Hajime is a bit of an idiot before he gets around to being a good boyfriend.





	

Oikawa has been modeling for almost a year now, and Hajime has gotten pretty used to seeing him in weird outfits, or with his face covered in all kinds of different makeup when he comes home from a shoot. They’ve never touched his hair though, have probably never felt the need to since it is irritatingly perfect all on its own. Just the right amount of soft wave, always artfully swept over his forehead. (Except when he has just woken up, of course. Hajime is very familiar with Oikawa’s bedhead, and Oikawa has all but threatened his life to keep him from ever divulging just how bad it can look, or worse yet, showing anyone a picture.)

Generally, though, it always looks the same. It’s practically a trademark. Which is why Hajime almost chokes on a mouthful of ramen when Oikawa steps into their apartment and his hair is....well half of it isn’t even _there_ anymore. It’s been cut, the sides cropped shorter than Hajime has ever seen on Oikawa, with the top left long and styled upwards. He has a motherfucking undercut, and Hajime doesn’t even know what to do with himself other than let his mouth hang open.

“Iwa…”

“Holy. Shit.”

“Do not—”

“You—”

“ _I_   _know.”_

“But—”

“Iwa-chan....not one fucking word about my hair. Do you hear me?”

Hajime can feel his eyes about to pop out of his head still. There is _so much_ he wants to say about Oikawa’s hair, but Oikawa has his scary face on and, while Hajime is certainly not intimidated, he will be crafty about this at least.

“Okay,” he says.

“Thank you,” Oikawa says, slipping off his shoes and moving to step past Hajime.

“Alright, stop,” Hajime says, in English.

“ _What,_ Iwa?” Oikawa asks, voice heavy with exasperation.

“Collaborate and listen.”

Oikawa blinks at him and Hajime decides to give this all he has. It’s not every day his boyfriend, who has had the same hair for essentially his entire life, comes home with a fucking undercut.

“Ice is back with my brand new invention,” he continues, all out rapping now, moving to the rhythm of the words. “Something...grabs ahold of me tightly, flow like a harpoon daily and nightly.”

Oikawa’s eyes have gone so wide, his face so serious, Hajime thinks he may actually be on the verge of a murderous rampage that will leave Hajime in pieces. He thinks it may be worth it.

“Will it ever stop? _Yo,_ I don’t _know..._ turn off the lights, and I’ll _glow.”_

“You piece of shit!” Oikawa shrieks, throwing himself at Hajime. Hajime tries to keep going, choking out the next lines of the song while attempting to make a break for it with Oikawa hanging off of him. But his boyfriend is too heavy and Hajime is laughing too hard, and they end up in a heap in the tiny hallway leading to their bedroom and bathroom.

He’s flat on his stomach, Oikawa sprawled on top of his back, trying to get his hand over Hajime’s mouth.

“Deadly, when I play a dope— _mmmph.”_

“I _hate_ you,” Oikawa says, but Hajime can feel his chest shaking against his back, the laughter lifting his voice.

Hajime is crying at this point, face pressed into the carpet. There’s no way he can rap anymore anyway, and Oikawa releases him, rolling off to collapse on his back beside him.

“Iwa-chan...” he says, when Hajime has caught his breath and turned his head to face him. Oikawa’s lips are still soft with a fading smile, but there’s something off in his eyes and Hajime sobers immediately. He should have seen that the moment Oikawa got home.

“Hey...” Hajime says, rolling onto his side and reaching to touch Oikawa’s face. The first tear is slipping out before his hand is there to catch it. “Hey, hey...Tooru, it’s just hair.”

Oikawa’s lips tremble and he shakes his head. “It’s _not._ It was _part_ of me, and now it’s...God it’s so stupid. I _hate_ it, Iwa.”

Hajime tries to brush his tears away, but they just keep falling, so he shuffles closer to Oikawa and pulls him into his arms. “Did you have to cut it?” he asks.

Oikawa hiccups, his body shaking against Hajime’s. “I didn’t....h-have to, but they..they said I need to look more modern and...and they promised it would be good, but...”

He’s starting to really cry now, and Hajime feels like the biggest dick on the planet for not realizing that this would be upsetting for him.

“ _You_ think I l-look like a fucking American 80s rapper,” Oikawa sobs.

“Tooru...no, listen,” Hajime says, sitting up so he can lean against the wall and pull Oikawa into his lap. “I was teasing you...I never thought you’d do anything to your hair you didn’t want to, I didn't know you weren't happy with it.”

Oikawa cries more and Hajime hurries on, because he’s pretty sure all he’s done so far is make things worse. “But you do _not_ look like Vanilla Ice.”

“I _do,”_ Oikawa says. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t. I only laughed because I was surprised and it’s fun messing with you. But you don’t look ridiculous at all.” He strokes his hand through the long part of Oikawa’s hair. “How could you think that? You'd look good with any hairstyle.”

“It’s not _me,”_ Oikawa sniffles.

“I know...I know. But...honestly, here...sit up.”

Oikawa leans heavily into Hajime’s chest and Hajime has to push him and practically wrestle him into shifting onto the floor between Hajime’s legs so he can see him properly.

He studies him. The high fade on the sides that makes his face more open, all the delicate angles more pronounced. The long hair on top looks thick and soft and Hajime reaches to run his fingers through it again.

“It looks good, Tooru,” he says.

“It doesn’t...I’m practically _bald.”_

“You’re not bald, stupid,” Hajime tells him, catching his chin between his forefinger and thumb to keep him from turning away.  “Look...look at me. It actually....you actually look really good.”

Oikawa glares at him, red eyed and beautiful. Hajime forgets sometimes that, underneath all of his confidence and bluster, Oikawa is too insecure to have any concept of how just how incredible he really is.

“I’m serious,” Hajime says. “I can see why they did it, it’s like...did you know you have perfect ears?”

Oikawa closes his eyes and tries to pull away from Hajime, clapping his hands over his ears. “Stop it, oh my God do not pity compliment me.”

“I’m not!” Hajime pushes Oikawa’s hands out of the way and holds his face between his own hands. “I wouldn’t just say shit like _your ears are perfect_ if I didn’t mean it. You have good ears, Shittykawa, and now you can really see them. And your neck looks even longer and your eyes look bigger and you just...you look _really_ _good.”_

Oikawa opens his eyes. “If you’re lying to me...”

“I’m not fucking lying to you,” Hajime says. “When have I ever done that?”

Oikawa sniffles and doesn’t say anything, because they both know Hajime has been honest to a fault as long as they’ve known each other.

“You look...pretty hot, actually.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching up on one side, and Hajime slips his hands around his waist.

“Like...I just wanna...” He trails off, leaning into Oikawa and brushing the tip of his nose along the curve at the base of his neck, following the length of it up with his lips.

“Hajime...” Oikawa says softly.

Hajime traces the shell of his ear with his tongue, rubs his cheek against the soft, short hair behind it. “Feels nice,” he says, running both hands up the sides of Oikawa’s head, and then leaning in to kiss his lips as he buries his fingers in the long hair at the top. “God...it’s like...” He kisses Oikawa again, feeling his lips soften and part as he tilts his head the best he can with Hajime’s fingers so tight in his hair, and leans into the kiss.

“What’s it like?” Oikawa asks between presses of lips.

“Like...” Hajime glides his tongue over Oikawa’s bottom lip and he can still taste a trace of salt there from his tears. He sucks it into his mouth, presses his teeth into it until Oikawa’s breath catches, and then releases it, leaning right back in to kiss him again, and again, fingers tangling in his hair. “Makes me wanna pull it,” he says, a little surprised by the growl in his own voice.

Oikawa shivers under his hands in response, pressing closer to Hajime’s chest.

Hajime runs his hands down the back of Oikawa’s long, slender neck, down the length of his spine, cradling him and leaning over him as he lowers him to the floor. “Makes me think of all the ways I could fuck you with my hands in your hair.”

A bright flush spreads across Oikawa’s cheeks and he looks even prettier now, his perfect bone structure highlighted by the color and exposed by his new hair.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Hajime says.

Oikawa’s eyes well up again, but Hajime knows it’s okay this time.

“You really like it?” he asks.

Hajime slides his hands back into his hair and brings their mouths together, kissing him slowly, firm and deep and deliberate, so Oikawa knows there’s nothing Hajime would rather be doing than breathing him in. (The way he’s pressing hard into Oikawa’s hip should tell him something about how attractive Hajime finds him as well.)

“Yeah,” he says when he withdraws, looking down fondly at Oikawa’s swollen lips and the color still warm in his cheeks. “I can see your face better.”

“You’ll never admit to saying that when you’re not horny,” Oikawa says with a little laugh. His voice is soft and full now, instead of sounding like it’s just about to break.

Hajime laughs too, nosing at Oikawa’s close cropped hair again. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m so weak for your new look,” he says, rolling his hips slowly against Oikawa’s. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to hear me talk about liking your face, if that’s what you want.”

Oikawa nods, wiggling under Hajime. “I do...but my back hurts from all the stupid poses I had to hold today. Can you tell me how much you like my face in bed?”

“Is that all you want me to do?” Hajime asks, sitting up and then helping Oikawa to his feet.

Oikawa grins, his eyes bright and warm. His hair is mussed up and his smile is one of Hajime’s favorites, wide and happy and a little mischievous. Hajime feels his heart do a little flip and wonders why he didn’t just jump on Oikawa the second he walked in the door.

“Mm-mm,” Oikawa says, shaking his head. “I believe I was promised some hair pulling.”

Hajime nudges Oikawa towards their bedroom, wrapping his arms around him from behind to hold him close against his chest, and sliding one hand up under his shirt. “You’re really gonna let me fuck you after I serenaded you with Ice Ice Baby?”

“That was _not_ a serenade,” Oikawa says, leaning back into Hajime while he walks them into their room and towards the bed. “And I still hate you for that.”

“I’m pretty good though, huh?” Hajime says.

“Oh my God,” Oikawa says, stopping short just before Hajime can press him onto the bed. “You know _all_ the words.”

“Yeah?” Hajime says. He absolutely does. Doesn’t know what half the song means, but he can rap it all the way through.

Oikawa twists out of his arms, sitting down on the bed and smiling up at him. “You _like_ him.”

“Who?”

“Vanilla Ice! You’re hot for my Vanilla Ice hair!”

Hajime feels a very disconcerting wave of heat working its way from his chest all the way up to his face. “Your hair’s not even the same as his,” he says. “And he’s like...fifty now.”

Oikawa looks so pleased, Hajime is torn between wanting to shove his face into the bed, and wanting to hug him tight because he obviously feels much better. Come to think of it, this is usually the way he feels when he looks at Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa says, his voice low and serious now. “Would you like me to rap while we fuck?”

“Shut up,” Hajime says, climbing on the bed and pushing Oikawa onto his back. He can’t quite figure out how the tables have turned so completely with this whole rapping thing.

“I don’t know all the words because I didn’t have a big fat crush on him like y—”

“Shut _up.”_ Hajime drops on top of Oikawa, winding his fingers back through his hair.

“Play that funky music, white booooy,” Oikawa croons, and Hajime can’t help it, he ducks his head into Oikawa’s shoulder and tries to muffle his laughter there. “Play that funky music _riiiiiight.”_

“He doesn’t even _sing_ that part,” Hajime says, nipping the crook of Oikawa’s neck.

“Sorry, sorry,” Oikawa says. “You might have to teach me, so I can be a good Vanilla Ice for you.”

“Would you...” Hajime props himself up so he can see Oikawa’s face, happy and relaxed. His hair looks even sexier, somehow, now that he’s lying down on their bed. Messy and so, so soft. “Would you just shut up and let me like your hair? You’re a hundred times hotter than that guy ever was. Stop singing and just—”

Oikawa beams and pulls Hajime down to him with his hands twisted in his shirt. He half kisses him and half just smiles against his lips.

“You really like it?” he asks again.

“I really like _you,_ you idiot,” Hajime says. “Because you’re beautiful, and you’re mine, and you’re a _terrible_ singer. It doesn’t matter what your hair looks like.”

“But you really like it,” Oikawa says. He’s basically nothing but a smile at this point.

“ _Yes,”_ Hajime says. “And I wasn’t kidding about all the ways I wanna fuck you, so can we—”

Oikawa pulls Hajime into another kiss, and Hajime’s hands find their way back into Oikawa’s hair, and yes, they definitely can.

Something about that hair, and the way Hajime can’t stop touching it the whole time he's moving in Oikawa, makes it so good that he forgives Oikawa for humming a very familiar hook when they’re lying tangled in each other’s arms afterwards.

It was so good that Oikawa forgives Hajime for rapping the entire song from start to finish while they’re showering. (And for using copious amounts of shampoo to make Oikawa’s hair stand straight up while he does it.)

So good they have to do it all over again. Hajime has thought of so many things he wants to do with his hands in Oikawa’s hair, and Oikawa wants to hear all about them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know you're already singing it in your head, so go [treat yourself](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rog8ou-ZepE)
> 
> Find me [here](http://ellessey-writes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!


End file.
